Only Love
by Aunt Jo the Grammar Goddess
Summary: evil!DuncanQuiglet. Quigley goes to visit some fiends and doesn't come back. Violet gets worried and Duncan shows up. What happens next? Read and fin out!


She sat in the living room, drawing plans for her next invention. She was staring off into space, which, as her husband knew, meant something wouldn't quite fit exactly the way she wanted it. She was so lovely. He sat down next to her, interrupting her reverie.

"You're so hot when you invent." He casually pushed a strand of hair away and kissed her neck.

"Please don't bother me. I'm so close to finishing, I could scream!"

"Me, too. What's wrong? The Flux Capacitor not fit?" Their eyes met for a long moment and her expression turned to mock disgust.

"Go away and let me work, you pervert!" She pushed him.

"Okay, okay! I'll go over to Klaus and Isadora's for a little while. Call me when you're done?"

She got up and walked to the door. "Yeah. Bye. I love you." She stood on tiptoe to kiss him.

"Bye, Violet. I love you, too."

"Flux Capacitor?" she asked herself softly and rolled her eyes.

Seven hours later, Violet was getting worried. She'd called Klaus to tell her husband he could come home, only to find out he'd never made it up to her brother's house. She'd called his cell phone several times. She'd gotten the voicemail each time.

She called again, just to hear his voice. "Hi, this is Quigley Quagmire's voicemail recording. Since you're listening to this insanity, you'll realize that I'm too busy to answer my phone or I simply don't care about you. And if this is Duncan, just hang up now. If you've made it this far, you have earned the right to leave me a message. You can do so at the beep. Beep."

"Quigley, it's Violet. I'm getting really, really worried about you. Please call me soon, okay? I don't know where you are or if you're okay or anything. Please call me, baby. I'll be at home or at Klaus and Izzy's and I'll have my cell with me. Please call. I'm worried. I love you."

No sooner had she hung up than a knock sounded at the door. She ran to the door as fast as her legs would carry her. She opened the door and it was—

"Duncan? What are you—"

He thrust out his hand, fingers curled around something. "I brought you a present."

"What is it?" Where was Quigley? Why was Duncan here?

"Here." He opened his hand slowly.

Violet nearly vomited at the sight of his "present." It was a human finger, complete with wedding band and blood. She looked again to make sure her eyes weren't playing tricks her. No, it was a finger. There was so much blood on the inside of Duncan's hand.

"Oh my God, Violet, are you okay?!" She looked at him, her eyes full of loathing.

"No! My goodness, Duncan, you just showed me a—"

"It's a trick finger. You know, the kind you put over your real finger and go into the kitchen and pretend to slice it off? Or have a volunteer from the audience cut off your finger and then you magically make another finger appear on your hand? I'm sorry, I didn't mean to frighten you."

She sighed. "Come in." She shut the door, asking, "Did you come all the way up here solely to play that nasty trick on me or is there another reason?"

He took the ring off the "finger." "If you turn this over, you will see there is a diamond attached to it. It's Lia's."

"It's beautiful. You proposed?" _Stop thinking about Quigley. He's fine._

"No, not yet. I'm going to when I get home. What's wrong? Where's Quig?"

"He's gone. He went to Klaus and Izzy's and never came back. They told me he didn't go to their house."

"You think he's…uh, with another woman?"

"I never thought of that." She started to cry at the thought of her Quigley cheating on her. Why would he? Was she not—

_Violet Elisabeth Quagmire. Get ahold of yourself. He's fine. He's not with another woman. There is more of a chance of you sleeping with Duncan than your husband cheating. Extremely slim to none, Violet._

Why was Duncan holding her, then?

Why was he kissing her, then?

Why was she enjoying it?

She pushed him away, nothing like the push she'd given her Quigley earlier. That had been playful, flirtatious even. This was not.

"What are you doing?" Tears were still running down her cheeks, mourning what might be the loss of her newlywed husband, and his brother was taking advantage?

"He's dead, Violet."

"No, he's not."

"Yes, he is. I killed him."

"What?"

He held up the finger again. "It's his. I have his wedding ring in the car if you don't believe me." His face was serious, his tone very grave. The irony in her choice of words did not escape her.

"It's setting on the dresser upstairs. He got it hung on some metal when he helped me finish an invention and it doesn't fit anymore. He has yet to get it fixed. You're lying."

He came to with the most horrible migraine in all of human history. He remembered getting Duncan's call, driving across town to help, getting out of the car…and nothing else.

"_Hello?"_

"_Quigley? Is that you?"_

"_Yeah. What's up, Dun?"_

"_Where are you?"_

"_On 14th street. I'm going to Izzy's. Why?"_

"_Oh. Can you come get me? I'm on the corner of 4th and Freemont. I just—oh, God, please come get me."_

"_Jesus Christ. What's wrong?"_

"_Hurry."_

Now he knew why that address had sounded familiar. It was in a song. His Violet's favorite song.

"_It's these sub-standard motels on the la la la la la_

_Corner of 4th and Freemont Street."_

He was lucky it was an actual address in this city.

He realized he was holding a brown paper bag with alcoholic contents. A drunk. Duncan had made him look like a drunk passed out in an alley. He felt around for his cell phone and spied it laying on the ground. It lay crumpled like the accordion Kit's brother played. He got up, thinking of his wife. He should call her. Tell her not to worry. Tell her he was okay. He wondered idly what time it was.

The building Duncan had directed him to was a bar. Great. Now he was a drunk who had been thrown out of the bar for doing God knows what to the waitress and who had passed out in the dark alley behind said bar.

He walked inside, sitting at the counter. The waitress turned and offered him a drink. He refused. The only time he'd ever been drunk had been a few weeks ago with Violet. He'd had only enough wine to make him more than slightly tipsy, but she had been completely wasted. The only time Quigley had nailed Violet any harder was on their wedding night. The next morning's hangover had killed the effect. His wife had seemed to escape all the alcohol unscathed.

"Is everything okay, sir?" the girl asked. He looked up, amazed that the skin on someone's chest could stretch that much. She was rather pretty, but her hair and features were ruined by too much make-up and tight, ill-fitting clothes. She looked like quite the slut. A slightly pregnant slut, he realized. He felt sorry for the child.

"No," he responded. "I think someone stole my car." He looked at his left hand. "And my wedding ring."

"Why would someone steal a wedding ring?" He saw she wore one. He hoped the baby was her husband's.

"It was 22 karat gold and it had a strip of pure silver around it. Not to mention three very small diamonds." The ring had cost a small fortune. Luckily, they'd had two very large ones. Violet was going to kill him after she got over being relieved to see he wasn't dead.

"Are you sure you don't want a drink? Not even water?"

"No. What time is it?"

The girl looked at her watch. "Almost eleven."

He'd been out for six and a half hours!

"Can I use your phone? Thanks." He dialed his phone number. No one answered.

Violet was sitting against a wall where Duncan had thrown her. She was crying. He'd hurt her, in more ways than Olaf ever had. Near the end of her torture, he'd whispered something only her Quigley said. "Only love, Violet."

They had been dating a year when they'd hit a rough spot. An argument had ensued. Near tears, Violet had screamed, "What do you want, Quigley? You've hurt me. Can't you feel it? Can you feel anything at all anymore?"

His response had been, "Only love, Violet."

She had cried then. Cried in the arms of a guy she'd met in a cave and loved ever since. They never spoke about that argument now. But some nights, Quigley would put his arms around her and whisper it in her ear. Especially when she was annoyed, or angry, or sad, or upset. Its meaning was lost to everyone but her.

How did Duncan know?

As if he could hear her thoughts, he said, "Quigley said it before I killed him. He said to tell you." He looked in her eyes. "What does it mean?"

"Its meaning is private. Between my husband and I only."

He casually held out the knife to her. "What does it mean?"

She was silent. He asked again, unspoken threats in his voice, but she said nothing. He shrugged. "It's not that important. I guess I can find out some other time." Confusion was written plain on her face. He elaborated. "A married woman whose husband has died has the right to remarry. Since your late husband is dead, that makes you a single woman, therefore you have the right to remarry. There's someone in this room who loves you dearly. Who has loved you since he went to school with you. You could remarry him."

Violet was disgusted. "You killed my Quigley—your triplet!—so you could marry me? So you could sleep with me?"

He smiled evilly, like Olaf. "No. I killed my own brother because I wanted to. I haven't talked to him in six years. I didn't know you two were married."

"How is that? Izzy tells us everything about you. I knew about Lia, I knew about—"

"She doesn't tell me anything."

"I find that hard to believe."

The phone rang. Their eyes met, Violet questioning, Duncan's threatening. "Let the machine get it."

"Hi, you've reached Violet and Quigley Quagmire," said her voice. "We're not able to come to the phone just yet, so please leave a message and we'll get back to you."

"Violet? It's Quigley. I'm sorry for being so late but…um, something came up, and I lost track of time. I'll be home in about twenty minutes. Don't let Duncan in the house. I'll explain later. Only love, Violet." He hung up.

Her head slowly turned in his direction. "You lied to me about killing him?"

"He was dead." Duncan expression was unbelieving. Violet realized he had gone quite mad. "He was. I smashed his head open. I even took his non-existent pulse. There was blood everywhere. I killed him."

Violet got up and hugged him. Had she gone mad, too? "It's okay, Duncan."

"No it's not!" He flinched away. "Now you can't marry me!"

"Duncan, I don't _want_ to marry you," she said softly. "I'm sorry if it hurts you, but I love Quigley, not you. I'm married to Quig. He loves me, that will never change. Besides, Lia loves you." An idea floated into her head. It might work. "Can I see the ring?"

"Why?"

"I want to see it." He handed her the ring and she went on, "If you kill Quigley and somehow convince me to marry you, that would break your Lia's heart. You love her, don't you?" He nodded. "Well, propose to her. Marry Lia. Besides, if you do kill Quig, I'll go to the police, and you'll spend the rest of your life in jail, so it would serve no purpose to marry me. I'd send you divorce papers. The choice is yours: jail or Lia."

"But—"

"No buts, Dun. Jail or Lia."

He called for a cab. When it arrived, he gave the driver his address and sat back, thinking about his wife. _Only love, Violet_, he thought. _I'm sorry._

Duncan was at their house, he knew it. He was as sure of this as he was of Violet's fidelity. He hoped his brother hadn't hurt her. Hope as he might, his instinct told him otherwise. He always knew when she was hurt. Maybe this time he was wrong.

Why had he gone after Duncan? Why? He knew the answer, but didn't want to admit it even to himself. He'd missed his brother, even after all he'd done. They were triplets after all. The circumstances they were both under six years ago only worsened the situation. Duncan had been under the impression that Quigley and Klaus had tried to break up he and Violet. The truth of the matter was Violet left him of her own accord. She'd left because he'd been drinking heavily and had beaten her more than once. Quigley had always suspected he forced himself on Violet. She'd admitted, on their wedding night, that she wasn't a virgin.

He looked down at the bare finger on his left hand. There was a slight tan line where the ring had been. He'd remembered there was a jewelry repair shop a few block from Klaus and Isadora's house. He'd put his ring on that morning. He'd wanted to surprise his wife. And his brother had taken it.

Violet was going to shoot him.

"Twelve fifty, sir."

"What? Oh, sorry." He counted out the money.

"Thanks. Have a nice day."

He looked through the window, trying not to be seen. Violet was sitting on the floor next to him, saying something he couldn't quite make out. He went to the door and opened it. Duncan spun around.

"No!" he yelled angrily . "I killed you! I know I did!"

"Obviously not. You just knocked me out. I'm fine, except for a raging migraine." Violet walked over to him. He put his arms around her. "I'm fine, Vi. I promise."

"I was so worried about you. I thought you'd went to Klaus's, but I called and he said you weren't there. Oh, God, I thought something awful had happened to you. I thought you were hurt, dead even." She wrapped her arms around his neck, burying her head in his chest. His arms slid down to her waist, his eyes on his brother. He kissed her neck, eyes leaving Duncan at the last second. He wasn't trying to make his brother jealous. He was trying to give him a hint to leave. He wasn't taking it.

"Leave, Duncan," he said ungraciously.

His wife's head came up. "No!" she said hurriedly. "He can't leave. Not yet."

"Why not?"

She turned in his arms, facing Duncan for the first time since Quigley had arrived. "I called the cops on him."

"They can't get him for anything, Vi. We have no proof he did anything."

"I have a confession to attempted murder. He told me he killed you. He told me he smashed your head open and that you didn't have a pulse. He kept repeating 'I killed him.' Besides, he—"

"You're lying!"

"He—"

"I did not!"

"What didn't you do?" Quigley asked quietly.

Duncan was silent. He looked down at his feet, hands, anywhere but at his brother. Quigley repeated his question. Nothing.

"What didn't he do, Vi?"

She whispered it in his ear. He was disgusted. Tears welled up in her eyes and he put his arms around her as his confident, usually dry-eyed wife broke down completely. Violet, he knew from experience, could suppress her emotions when she needed to do so. A lesson she'd learned from Olaf. Knowing Violet didn't like to cry, he hated Duncan even more for doing what he'd done to her.

He looked up at his brother. "You have ten seconds before I lose my temper completely. Use that time wisely, Dun." He watched the coward run out of the house without so much as a glance at Violet.

"Are you okay?" he asked, knowing the answer before it came.

"No. He is such a…good God, he's evil."

"He is. How did he get in?"

"He knocked on the door. He showed me this very realistic trick finger with a ring in it. I thought it was yours for a moment," she said softly. After a moment, she went on, "He said he just wanted to talk or something. I don't know. I let him in. I wish you'd left that message a little earlier." She snuggled a little closer to him. She must have feel a little better. She'd stopped crying. He said as much to her, arms tightening around her.

"Do you want to go to the hospital, Vi?"

She nodded against his chest. He barely felt it.

_Knock-knock_. Quigley answered the door, Violet still in his arms. She was beginning to cry again. It was Duncan in handcuffs, standing next to a cop.

"This man was trying to cut your brakes. Is this who the lady of the house called about?"

"Yes," she said.

"Since we have him in cuffs, what was the reason for the call?"

"He said he killed Quigley—uh, my husband. He tried to."

The policeman turned to Duncan. "That true, son?" Duncan nodded.

Quigley added, "He raped her." His brother cringed. As he did his wife as tears began flowing freely from her beautiful blue eyes.

"Did you?" the cop asked calmly. Duncan nodded again.

They all left at the same time. The helpful policeman escorted Violet and Quigley to the hospital, then took Duncan to the police station.

Duncan was charged with rape and attempted murder. His attorney had Duncan evaluated by the state psychiatrist. He said Duncan had developed split personalities. One was the regular Duncan, who wouldn't hurt a fly unless he scared it to death because of a prank. The other was evil, and had no conscience at all. This personality was the one who committed the crimes. Duncan could see what was going on, but couldn't stop anything. Afterwards, he felt remorse, not knowing why he couldn't stop it. On the one hand, Duncan hadn't done it. On the other hand, he had. The judge ruled that even though it was another personality, Duncan Quagmire had committed the crimes. Duncan Quagmire had attempted to kill his brother. Duncan Quagmire had raped his brother's wife. Duncan Quagmire was sentenced to 25 years in jail with no chance of probation.

Duncan Quagmire committed suicide three days after his sentence.

Duncan's girlfriend Lia committed suicide the same night.


End file.
